I've Got This Friend
by bulletproofsince1999
Summary: I just love teen!lock. Especially greaser!lock, and I hope you guys do, too. Basically, John's new to the place and he meets a random stranger who speaks not a word, but is very intriguing. But that's our Sherlock for you... Rated M for lack of knowing where it's going. Definitely Johnlock, though, I can guarantee that much. :-)
1. Curiouser and Curiouser

**A/N: Alright, readers, I know exactly what I'm doing! No, I don't... Writing this as I go, and I hope you like it. I know I love Sherlock and John being... well, teens. XD**

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I've Got This Friend

One: Curiouser and Curiouser

(First Person/ John's POV)

"I'm sure you'll make some friends," she reassured me, smiling and clasping a hand loosely to my shoulder.

"Yeah, no. Everywhere we go, people harass me for my opinions. So maybe if I don't express them, I can be left alone," I plucked her fingers from me, and let her arm fall to her side. "I'll be back in about an hour, Harry. I'm going for a walk," I nodded and turned towards the new door to our new flat. It was small, hellishly so, but at least we could afford it, my parents, I mean.

"Alright," Harry sighed, "I'm going to make dinner before Mum and Dad get back, be sure to be home for it," she explained. But I really didn't want to be back. Harry was an a amazing cook, but she had already started drinking. It was light, and she wasn't even buzzed. But by the time dinner's over… Yeah.

But, "I'll try," I said before opening the door, the knob feeling new in my hand, knowing I'll have to get used to it, though. And I walked out to the shining afternoon sun, the light coming from the window in the hallway that lead to the stairs. I wonder what she's making that'll take all afternoon, but it's Harriet, who knows? The only thing I know is that it'll be good.

But I walk out, closing the door on the now solitary person left in the flat. I could practically hear her sigh as my Vans covered feet shuffled down the carpeted hall and to the flight of stairs. I'm so glad we live on the second floor, it makes for less effort when walking down them. I stopped to observe myself in the mirror at the bottom of said stairs.

Was there something wrong with my band tee (Evanescence, God do I love her voice. And this shirt, the simple one with the red tree behind the Band's name), my black and faded vest? The pierced ear I have, (just a simple black stud), the worn out jeans and my Vans?

I never thought so, but I guess other people did and still do. Harry secretly loves the way I dress, she said so. Though she doesn't dress like it herself, for fear of turning out like myself: always picked apart about it. My hands ended up in my pockets as I shrugged, walking out the main door, hearing it close behind myself and wondering how the hell London could be so fucking hot when it's usually raining, or so I've heard.

I sighed, oh well. At least I can get some air, instead of being stuck in the flat all day just waiting to be able to go to school tomorrow. I can't wait to make straight As. Mum and Dad were always ahead of things, registering us for school before we move, as we do it a lot. Mum's a business woman and Dad's a mechanic. Usually we move cause of Mum, and wherever she goes we follow. Ugh, it's annoying, but at least I know I won't have to stay in one place for too long.

I started wandering, down the sidewalk and sometimes peeking into alleys, just wondering what could be there. I've been to many cities, all over the place. Even a few in America. And let me tell you, Americans just… They're harsh, a lot more than any others I've come across. They don't care if they don't know you, the way you dress apparently says it all to them. At least in Germany, people actually tried to get to know me instead of just blowing me off. And even then, those people were slim and next to none. I looked like the bad boy idiotic type, apparently, as one of my friends had explained to me.

I miss Mike. He didn't judge me, and Mary, she was lovely. But like I said, we had to move, and that, my friend, isn't fun. Even though I had blown Harry off about finding friends, I do hope I can find at least one. Someone like me, perhaps. There has to be more like me. I know it, I just never met anyone. Well, there was Sarah and she was interesting, but whatever. She was a bit too much into other things to let me talk to her about what I liked. I listened to her babble one, but she didn't let me say a thing.

And then there was Jeanette, Jesus Christ she was annoying, I have no idea why I ever tried. She liked me, I was her type, apparently. It took me a few weeks, but I had finally got her to stop clinging to me like she was lost without me. I bet she was, but I really don't care. She was annoying, and I didn't like her after I first talked to her. I was just lonely and she was right there. That was the worst mistake, she wasn't even any good in bed.

Oh, you thought I was a virgin? You're sorely mistaken, I'm sorry, but you are. I haven't been around a lot, but I am definitely not so innocent. I guess that comes with being an outcast, we tend to take as much as we can before it's gone. That's why I loved Mary, she was easy to love, and I didn't need to take anything from her, she gave herself to me. I hated moving and leaving her. She suggested long distance, but that always ruins a couple. And no offense to her, but if I can't touch her, hold her, kiss her, I can't do it.

I can't see someone's face or hear their' voice without wanting to see them. She calls me sometimes, but I just can't stand it. Mike calls as well, but not so much anymore. Usually it's when he's feeling lonely or is drunk. That boy, I swear, he's sixteen and parties like he's twenty. Though, I can't blame him much. I did, too. Though I didn't drink, not as much anyway. Harry's too much for me. I'd also hate to have to depend on someone else if I get hammered.

There were a few times, but never again, especially not after the hangover. I shook my head at myself, _Listen to me, I'm an idiot_. Surely, you think so, too. At least I'm not talking to myself again. I never knew who I was talking to, I just did. Sometimes not even at myself, just aimlessly forming words. Guess that's what happens, though, when you end up not talking to anyone for weeks. Just shutting yourself up in your room and blasting the music as loud as possible to ignore the words of others.

That's my main reason for listening to what I do, it seems to understand me more than anything else. I don't understand how one can enjoy someone talking, not singing which I hate rap for, about sluts and the cash they throw about. Well, I don't hate rap, but like, fucking Flo Rida, yeah no. I like things like Linkin Park or the little bit that good Charlotte does, they're pretty good.

And all of my thought were interrupted by the faint sound of something I swear I knew. It was music, but I couldn't place my finger on what song or the band, even. It sounded to be just ahead, but farther away than I wanted. So I sped up a bit, wanting to know who was playing it. And once I got closer, I finally recognized the band, oh how I love Bullet 4 My Valentine. I don't much like screamo, but the way they do it is just… fantastic.

I was getting closer and I heard one of the lyrics clearly, saying: _Is what you've seen too much to take, or are you blind and seeing nothing? _Oh! I love Hand of Blood! I listen to it so much I know it by heart by now. It's a bit messed up, but the beat just loves to consume one like myself. And I just kept getting closer, step by eager step.

It got louder and louder, but almost like it was only coming from headphones, (heh, leave it to me to notice something like that), and not a speaker or something. But once I realized it was coming from someone in another alley, I sucked in a breath, looking to the building on the other side of the alleyway, the shadows consuming a lot as I peeked around the corner.

At first, I was confused, and stepped out to look again, and then there he was, just sitting there, looking interesting. The smoke from the cigarette propped in his mouth wafting as he had just lit it, sliding the lighter back in his pocket.

I took one good look at him, and I knew he was like me. The dark curls that framed his face but was greased back on one side, letting his ear show and his sharp cheekbones that made his pale skin bend around themselves, making him look attractive, and I'm a male saying this, mind you. That makes him drop dead gorgeous, a straight man saying so, I mean.

His eyes seemed to study me a bit, the blue mixing in the grey that was light from the sun reflecting so much light from them. And I took advantage of my view as I examined him as well, taking in the leather jacket with the wide lapels that were folded over headphones that the music was pouring from. The lapels that also had a zipper's track on them and the belt buckle wrapped loosely around more to the bottom leading my eyes look to the black jeans that looked tight, but not uncomfortably so.

Hanging a bit over the waist band of said jeans was a shirt that was completely black, interestingly enough, displaying the letters that spelled Seether, the one with the skulls painted below that made me jealous because I don't have that one… yet… Which led back to the midnight black jeans. His legs were fucking long, making him look as though he was tall, completed by feet covered in Converse that were a bit uncharacteristically a dark blue, but somehow it matched with the laces being black. I looked back up to those eyes, staring at me as well, taking in my features.

The blond hair I hate sometimes, the blue eyes that were dark usually, but probably lighter in the sunlight. The lyrics from my favourite song fading now, and him standing, using his hands to balance himself out temporarily on the bricked wall behind himself, I took a step back. A pool of smoke gathered at his lips, then flitted about into the air before disappearing. I wanted to tell him that would kill him earlier than later, but I said nothing, wondering which song he had playing next.

What music he listens to interests me, oddly enough. But I was caught looking at those lips. How were they so full and looking so soft, almost like silk on a male? I've no idea and I think my brow crinkled in thought, because I raised both of them when he stepped closer, the cigarette pointing up as he looked down on me.

There were new lyrics now, ones I barely recognized as that piercingly enthralling gaze took hold of my attention. Three Days Grace, I knew, and the new lyrics said to us: _Tonight my head is spinning. _And it took a bit more for me to realize that it was Break.

But that doesn't have my attention anymore as he stared at me, not saying a word and his hands doing something at my waist but my eyes couldn't move as he just stared more smoke pouring from his mouth and floating from the end of the cigarette I so desperately wanted to rip from his luscious mouth.

But I did nothing as I felt my mobile slip from my back pocket. And it was in his hand, as I was about to yell at him, but all he did was turn it round and round in his hand and make a deep humming sound that made it seem as though he was studying it, as he had studied me. He had the same glare about it, anyway. Then he opened it, fingers pressing about a bit before typing a quick message. And shoving it back in my hand as he finally removed the cigarette from his lips, the grey rising from his lips as he turned around to walk away.

I was about to ask what his name was, or something, but he said nothing, giving me a two finger salute with the fingers that held his cigarette and turning back round and walking down the sidewalk, popping the cig back in his mouth and shoving his hands in his pockets.

The music faded as did he, and I wondered who the hell he could be. I also wanted to applaud him on his choice of headphones, though. The electric blue was stunning against his skin and I love Skullcandy's headphones. I have a pair of earbuds that went through the wash and still work as if nothing had happened.

But he was gone before I could even look up again from the phone he had left a message for me in the draft form of a text. **See you at school, nerd, **was all it said, and now I really wonder who that boy is. But now I really wanted my own music to play, and after listening to Three Days Grace from that twig of an idiot, I want more. So I shut down my phone, not wanting to be bothered for a while and pulled my IPod from my other pocket.

The phone was a gift, the IPod was bought with my own money, and I'm glad it was. My parents would have chosen some colour like green or something stupid for a case. The one I have is simply red, but dark and I like it. Red is my favourite colour, and not blood red, either, which was what the case was, but I don't mind. The red I love is like the sunset, dark but amazingly pretty.

Anyway, music. I turned it on, placing my earbuds in and wondering if I'll need to hear anything or not. Nah, I'm good, and I found a different song to play as it filled my ears and I loved it so much more than the cars and people. I finished my walk, though somehow wandering to a coffee shop and wondering what London's coffee tastes like. But that's an adventure for when I feel like it. Maybe before school in the morning? But I guess I should head back home now, as it's been a while and I'm getting bored.

So I backtracked, my legs aching a little when I opened the door to the flat again, but I'm fine. And I could smell and feel (it's fucking hot up in here) what was cooking before I saw Harry standing over the pan. I removed the headphones, the music still being able to be heard, which surprised me, but oh well.

"Fried chicken?" she grinned, and I smiled. Harry _had_ promised she was going to cut back on the drinking, and she was actually doing it. Last time she didn't, or the time before that. But I guess she really wants to change. I had expected to find her slurring a bit by now, but she was perfectly fine.

She smiled back and I nodded, "Smells good," turning off the IPod and shoving it back in my pocket as the headphones simply hung from my neck. So this is what's going to take her about another hour? I hope Mum and Dad like it. I will, I know that. Fried chicken, macaroni and cheese with mashed potatoes? Oh hell yeah.

"Well, I would hope so, but it's hot. Could you open the window, John?" I nodded again, walking past her and opening the window in the kitchen, on the wall beside the fridge that was hugged between said wall and the counter that lead to the stove at which Harriet stood.

I was just barely tall enough to reach it. "Thanks," and I walked away, still grinning and Harry was as well. But I left back the hall, closing the door to my new room, and I set to work moving in. I still had a few things to put away and posters I want to try to put up somewhere.

But for now it was plain, boring, the bed was tucked against the wall, boring blue colours for sheets and a blanket covering the pillow and the window was at the foot of said bed, ajar and letting in the cooling air. The closet was beside said window, on a wall itself, not exactly a walk in, but spacious, I guess. Sliding doors, though. Boring. I had boxes in the middle of the floor and I dug through them, wondering where exactly to put things. The table placed by the closet was deemed worthy, but meh.

This is still all very boring, as I haven't made friends yet. And the weird person that liked staring at things doesn't count, or well, not yet at least. It's obvious from the message that he goes to school. Dinner was nice to look forward to, though. Sitting around the old table we always bring with us, round and fitting all four of us easily. I loved being able to eat in silence, but not having tension.

But Dad broke said silence, looking to Harry, "Thank you for this. It's delicious," he said and she blushed, nodding.

"I like it, figured it would be good for just moving in. Plus, I promised I would let up on drinking, and why not make dinner? I'm sober and feel so much better already," she smiled, and Dad smiled back as Mum grinned. I just shrugged, eating the deliciousness that I could eat all night. But dinner did end, with small talk and crap that could bore anyone.

I excused myself, going to just lounge around on my laptop, stripping my shoes and relaxing on the bed, propping my feet up on the chair I used to write at my table with, and leaning against the wall. But Facebook bored me as well and all I could interest myself in was my writing websites. I didn't get much praise, but I happily grinned at all the reads and some of the comments.

People say I'm weird, but oh well, at least other weird people like my stuff. I have one person that I message all the time, giving them my ideas and letting them criticize me when they beta my chapters and such. I like them, not knowing whether they're female or male doesn't matter much to me. Hell, they could be fucking fifty, I don't care, they like my stories and I love theirs.

I'm a bit jealous, as they're a better writer than I could ever hope to be, but that's why I love them, because they actually give advice instead of just shoving things down my throat and telling me I'm doing it all wrong. Haven't messaged them in forever, though. I think they understand, as I told them I was moving yet again, but still.

I sighed, _The internet has more of a life than I do…_

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**There you are, the first chapter. :-) And if you're wondering, yes, all the chapters will be this long, maybe longer. Until next time. **


	2. See You At School, Nerd

I've Got This Friend

Two: 'See You At School, Nerd'

(First Person POV: Sherlock)

That morning was just as boring as ever as I rose, dressing and brushing my teeth. Parents left a note under my door, saying they won't be back until after midnight. That's later than usual, but it's how it is at the moment. Though, I hate it because why have a mansion of a house, and not be able to share it with family? It's discouraging.

"The style you choose to dress yourself in is discouraging," Mycroft commented as I realized I had mumbled that aloud while I was walking down the hall to the stairs. I do that sometimes, mumble certain thoughts.

"Your face is discouraging," I snapped and he rose a brow at the stupidity of that comment.

"I wasn't meant to be the pretty one, Sherlock," he shrugged and I rolled my eyes as we started down the twirling stairs.

"And I was?" I countered and he rose both brows in surprise when we reached the bottom in twenty seconds flat.

"I thought you knew. You should see the sheer number of girls that fall over your footsteps on the sidewalk, brother dear. Even a few boys. It's disgusting, but very true," he sneered and I scoffed, walking past him and back up to my room, not interested in food anymore. I want to practice more now. Just avoid everything.

Oh, that's right, you wouldn't know. Mum forced me to learn the violin, so I used what I learned from that, and I taught myself to play the guitar. The first few months left blisters on my fingers, but it was so worth it. Give me a page of notes and I can play it for you. Like the song I've been working on for the past few days. It's a country song I happen to adore.

I know, I don't seem the type to like country, my leather jacket, the band tee that had Green Day sprawled across it today, and the dark purple jeans that hugged me close as dark blue Converse completed the look. But country is my practice material. Being a rocker comes first, obviously, but Country is soothing. Which is why I play songs mostly from the Civil Wars or Jewel. Sometimes Mumford and Sons, some of their stuff is tolerable enough for it.

Otherwise, the new shit, like Taylor Swift and those idiots, I could care less. I'm good practicing talent instead of bullshit. So I drug my guitar case from under the bed, revealing the black felt and the clips that opened swiftly before the top lifted, showing a dark blue acoustic guitar that I had bought two years ago. This wasn't my starting one, of course, that's dead and gone. This was after I mastered my four years of learning. Yes, I have an allowance, no I'm not a brat and demand for more. Also, yes I saved it for this. And my bike…

I fingered the strings, smiling and plucking the beauty from the red insides of the case. A finger strummed carefully to make sure it was tuned properly and I was surprised to find it was. Had I tuned it last time? Oh yes, I did. While my brother was bragging, I had taken to concentrating and fixing it up. My parents are proud, sort of. They said they were, anyway. They can shove it up their arse, for all I care. I play for me, no one else.

Which was why I moved from kneeling on the floor to sitting on the edge of the bed, my ankles crossed and propped up on my toes under the frame as the acoustic was carefully placed against my knee and under my arms. I strummed it again, my thumb vibrating atop the first string. It happily sang back lightly as I grinned. If I was to love something, this would be it.

I started at where I thought the song would start. I've also, lately, been practicing my voice. I love how high I can get and how powerful it's been getting over just a year of practice. I'm sure I sound annoying to Mycroft, but singing this song is worth it. My fingertips pressed harder to the neck of my beauty and she sang with me, notes coming together and filling the room with a delightful noise that I'll never get tired of.

Eventually, though, I looked to the clock, after playing several songs over, and I had to go. I don't rely on Mycroft for a ride anymore, as I have my own, but I still leave around the same time he does. Besides, we go completely different directions, so it makes it easier on time. Also, everyone's rushing to get to work round about the time I need to get my arse to school, so I leave earlier, giving me an hour of even more practice outside of the school on the stairs.

People always gather and some even flip coins on the case, but I really don't give two shakes. They can appreciate it all they like, I do it for myself, and myself only. I'm very.. closed off with my personality, and the only people I really talk to are those who share my music tastes or interests. For example, this one boy who had a guitar similar to mine, I got into a conversation with him.

But it was short lived, and I'll never do it again. Now I don't even speak to the people I'm intrigued by, as you had a demonstration of yesterday. Plus, it makes me more mysterious, in turn, making them more interested so that if they really want to stick around, they will. If they don't want to put up with me, they'll leave. Not such a big loss, then is it? But this John kid, he seems interesting enough.

I snuck his mobile, how else would I know his name? I'm not a stalker, you know. Anyway, I re-cased my loveliness in blue, and drug her downstairs alongside my book bag on my shoulders. Mycroft scoffed as he climbed into his own car, (apparently he was already thinking the same), on the other side of the garage opening, and I rolled my eyes. I strapped the beauty to my bike, the deep purple and the black mixing perfectly and I grinned. Mycroft pulled out, leaving the door up for me to close as the kickstand to my motorcycle was pulled up by my heel. I balanced her in between my thighs as I dug around for my keys in my pocket.

Past the cigarettes and the lighter, in the bottom of the abyss that swallows every-fucking-thing, I swear. I found them, sliding the perfect fit in the ignition and twisting. I hummed in approval as she did under me, too. And I always do this thing, I press the button to close the garage door before I dash out from under it, practically doing a wheelie over the sidewalk and out into the road.

It helps wake me up sometimes from late nights of studying, and it's become a habit. Each one of the family members have a button thingy attached to a set of keys for their car, or in my case, a bike, and the house. The burst of speed gave my hair a push and never stopped as my bangs whipped over my face and I realized that my helmet was still strapped to the back. Heh, hear goes.

One hand had the handlebars balanced out as I reached back, unbuckling it and slipping it on before making sure the lighter but still dark purple was on my head before I was balanced back out and was steady again. Oh good, a stop light. Luckily, I was able to stop and strapped it on the rest of the way before starting up again, and in an hour flat, I was in the school's parking lot, undoing everything again, the helmet back in place and the case back on my shoulder as the book bag was on the other.

And there was the small crowd that already sat about the steps, just waiting for me to play or simply chatting up a friend, as I always do. Sometimes I tune it first, but I do eventually start playing. These last few days, I had started singing as well and more people gathered over those few days.

I hate being popular amongst the idiots, and the girls know it, but before they would try to talk to me, and I always blow them off and eventually they took the hint, and stopped trying. I was surprised to find John sitting beside Molly, a girl that wanted to bug me, but didn't. She was chatting up a storm and once I sat down on the last step, she hushed, as did everyone else.

I heard John question and then her mutter, "Just listen and you'll understand," she nodded and I plopped my book bag above me before propping my case on my knees and revealing the blue once more. I could hear John's enthusiasm about this, and I carefully placed her about my knee once more, the case sitting beside me on the step. Then I heard someone sit beside me on the step, as they had moved to do so.

I ignored them, plucking at each string lovingly before I started up with the last song I had played. Didn't sing, though, as John's listening, and for some reason, him being frustrated when he approaches me later on will be worth it. So, I just looked to my fingers, ignoring practically the whole world as notes hummed behind my fingers and I grinned in response.

The list of songs in my head ended with Tip of My Tongue before the bell rang loud and clear and everyone rushed up the stairs as the person beside me stayed. All I had to see was the Vans and I knew. I smiled as I heard a sigh when my guitar was put away and I grabbed my things to stand. John looked up at me expectantly and I smiled back, though it was nowhere near warm.

He cleared his throat, finally speaking to me, his voice sweet and low as he asked, "Going to tell me your name? Or do I have to figure it out myself?" I chuckled, and he rose a brow in expectance. I tilted my head at him, maybe I should play with him for a bit longer. Oh yes, this seems fun. So I shrugged, adjusting my things about my shoulders as I walked up the stairs and into the building. I heard him scoff at me, and I grinned as I headed to my first class. Surprisingly, John had that one with me. Alright, whatever.

At least I could have said that, until he had all of my classes with me. The morning ones, at least. Let us see about later. But for now, back to the stairs, where more people gather again and I roll my eyes, but I play nonetheless. "You play a lot, don't you?" John asked this time, not bothering with my name, apparently. I nodded, but said nothing more as my things were packed again and we were walking back to the post lunch classes.

"Why won't you talk to me?" he questioned and I grinned. "You're quite the brat, aren't you?" and I shrugged. Turns out, John's got all of my classes, which surprises me, since I know he's somewhere around sixteen and should be a grade ahead of me at least. Then again, I am a bit young to be where I am in the first place. Maybe he just started late, because he _is_ intelligent, I know he is. Or perhaps he fucked up a year and had to repeat it? Not sure, but oh well. At least now I know I can mess with him even more with all our classes being together.

And mess with him, I did. He kept asking things and I just answered with expressions and not saying a thing. The last bell rang, and I was glad to be getting home, but a little sad that I can't mess with John a little bit more. I lit a cigarette as I was desperate at this point. And John looked to it, disapproving as I just walked away, and he followed, trying to get me to speak.

When I stopped at my bike, he gasps. "Holy fuck, that's yours?!" I chuckled past the smoke and his eyes practically twinkled. I strapped my beauty to the back as I remembered the helmet this time. "You really aren't going to talk to me, though?" he asked, practically pleading.

I sighed, hooking my finger to his Jean's belt loop and as he squeaked, I twisted him round and dug his mobile from his pocket. I did the same as I had done yesterday, typing a message, and simply throwing it back in his hands as he sighed at what I had written. **Begging gets you nowhere, John.** "Wait, how do you know- oh yeah, never mind. But really? Then when _will_ you speak?" he asked. I simply shrugged and he glared at me.

"_Can_ you speak? That's the real question," and I smiled, pulling my cigarette form my lips as it's ashes dropped at our feet. I nodded, saying I could, but I shook my head, saying won't and he actually understood, surprising me again. "Fine! I'm going on a walk later, after I do homework and bullshit, will you be in that one spot again?" I shrugged, I dunno, will I? I rose a brow at him and he huffed, getting irritated.

"Just- Fucking be there, yeah?" I giggled a little, smiling and nodding as I finished off the cigarette and someone yelled at John to get in the friggin car. "Well, that's it, then. See you later," he waved a bit and I jabbed my chin at the fake irritation on the man with his arm out the window and his playful glare set upon John. John smiled once, then turned on his heels and walked away.

Maybe I'll go, just maybe. I twisted my ankle, crushing the butt under my shoe as I repeated this morning's actions, except I had no door to dash out from under, but I still drove as fast I wanted until I reached the road. I'm sure people saw, and gasped or whatever. But do I really care? Nope. But I didn't go home, not like I do usually after school, anyway. I instead went to that coffee shop by the spot John had found me yesterday, lounging about and listening to my music.

I ordered what has become my usual, because this is my favourite coffee spot, and plopped down at the table that I always use to do school work at, because if I don',t parents get on me about it. They don't know the half of my genius. And I'm not trying to brag, I'm serious. Compared to everyone else, I may as well be a scientist already. Not that that's what I want.

I don't want to be that boring all the time. Science isn't boring, but when it's all you do, it is. I like deducing things and solving mysteries more than anything. Which is also why I didn't speak to John, because the first time I do, it'll definitely be my deductions. I want him to see the scariest part of me first. My thoughts and actions were interrupted by a waitress setting down the ceramic mug.

I smiled at her thankfully and she nodded, "Anything else?" I shook my head as I continued pulling out my textbooks and such. She smiled, walking away as I boringly finished all my work in less than an hour. It was supposed to take at least one, but it's made for idiots, too easy. Might as well be busy work. The teachers know it, too, but are all also too lazy to make it challenging.

Though, my math teacher seems to like challenging me. He even helps me get ahead in the class and I'm already almost finished with the textbook given for this year. There are a few other students he does it with as well, but only a few, maybe four or five. As the others don't bother. They have potential, definitely, but they don't do anything about it. So I sat, sipping the last of my cooled coffee as I considered meeting John.

I had nodded like I would, but I still don't know. Is that a good idea? Oh, frigging fuck it. If it wasn't a good idea, I wouldn't have let him follow me about today. So I reassembled my things, shoving it away and slung it over my shoulder as I walked out, leaving a tip for the waitress and a two finger salute to the person at the counter. They smiled, waving a bit back as I walked out, the bell jingling at the top of the door.

I threw my book bag to the ground for now, and took my guitar from the straps. Even when I don't properly practice, I recite chords and notes and such. I don't get much of a crowd that way, but who cares? The case sat open at my knee as I sat with my legs crisscrossed and the acoustic about the same knee that the case sat open beisde. My fingers travelled up and down the neck, the strings squeaking under the skin and I smiled, strumming out a few chords.

Then there were footsteps and instantly looked to see John smiling down on me. I smiled back, wanting a cigarette now that the caffeine subsided. So I pulled one out, lighting it and the lighter went away as the smoke was breathed in, ah… peace about the mind. Grey emerged from my lips as John sat by my side, our knees brushing together and instantly I went back to the instrument in my arms.

"It's beautiful, you know? The guitar, I mean. I love it," he admitted, his blue eyes shining in the daylight. I drew in another breath that pooled at my lips in a frenchy before sputtering off and John was mesmerized for a moment before looking away, getting red in the face. So I was right. How interesting. "I was thinking, Molly said about how you sing sometimes, maybe if you won't talk to me, could you sing for me?" he asked and I shrugged.

"Stop shrugging at me," he eyed me and I grinned, shrugging again before I gathered another breath and let it loose. He sighed, and I continued to stare at him. Should I speak? Should I sing? I reached around again and pulled his phone from his pocket, typing out that I'll sing only if he will with me, and: **Know I've Got This Friend by the Civil Wars?** And he furrowed his brows in confusion.

"You like them? One would be lead to believe… Then again, _I_ like them. Of course I know that song, on of my favourites," _mine, too_. He smiled and I nodded. John shoved his phone back in his pocket as I put the cigarette out against the sidewalk, "You start, I dunno where to start, but if you do, I'll know where to follow," he said. "Guess that means I'm taking Joy's role then, aren't I?" I nodded and he shrugged.

"Alright," he agreed, and I started where I knew the notes did in that song. At first, it was easy to get them down, then when it came to singing, for some reason I was hesitant. But John smiling at me just made it easier. I knew he wouldn't be disappointed.

So I started the lyrics, "I got this friend… I don't think you know him.." and his eyes bulged as I kept going. "He's not much for words, he's hid in his hardened heart way. Ooh, I've got this friend, a loveless romantic," and John hummed with the strings as I continued. "All that he really wants, is someone to want him back…" he likes it, I knew he would…

Now for him to prove himself, in the chorus. Oh, his voice was lovely, I have to say, as the lyrics flowed from his lips, telling others as we sang, "Oh, if the right one came. If the right one came along. Ooh, if the right one came… along.."

Okay, John, you ready for this? And he grinned, but it faded quickly as he continued to form noted words with that beautiful voice of his and I just kept the notes going on the acoustic resting on my knees. I barely paid attention to the rest of the lyrics while John and I finished the song, it taking the right about three minutes and I grinned at him.

Then I finally spoke, as I figured I should. I already sang, so why not? "Not exactly what I want for a voice, but not so disappointing, yeah?"…


	3. Tell Me More

I've Got This Friend

Three: Tell Me More

He wouldn't friggin tell me his name! Or tell me _anything_, for that matter! He was silent, only humming sometimes to agree or 'say' yes, and nodding, and shaking his head, but no words touched his lips! I was so aggravated, and yet trying to be patient. He was ruining that fast, until I asked him to meet me where we met in the first place, and he had agreed with a nod. That made me giddy on the inside.

I couldn't help grinning as I turned to walk away and go home with Dad. I knew, that if he was meeting me, he would have to speak at some point. I know he can, as people keep telling me he does, just not very much. And Molly was swooning over apparently how good of a singer he was, so I am certain he can speak. It's just getting him to do it that's irritating. And oh, how it was irritatingly annoying…

But, I opened the door to Dad's car, and slid through easily as he asked about my day and such. The door closed as I stared at the idiot that I felt like I knew, but I don't at the same time. Then came the question I didn't exactly expect, "Who's that boy you're staring at?" Dad asked and I instantly felt my face heat up.

"Just a.. friend," why am I blushing? Maybe it's the fact that that bike makes him look so much sexier, or those jeans and- what the hell am I doing?! I barely know him! I don't even know his name! Perhaps I think I have affection for him because he's like me? A lot like me. Obviously, except for the fact that he won't fucking talk to me! Why am I so interested in the first place, though?

Maybe it really is just that he's not like everyone else… He dresses like I do, a bit more dramatic, but still. He has that same bored look about him that I feel. My fist held my chin as I stared out the window and Dad coughed suggestively. "John, who is he?" he teased.

"No one, can we just go home?" I looked to him and he grinned.

"As you wish," he nodded and I pursed my lips in even more thought about this. How could I not know his name and be crushing on him? I've had plenty of attractive guy friends, and I've only ever felt like this for two others. Is it his mysteriousness that does it? Because, I don't even know his name, perhaps he's aiming for this? No, the other two just had a personality that made me melt… Maybe I see something but I just don't see it at the same time?

I have no idea.. But him with that guitar was something else. Every time he plucked at the strings, I wanted to kiss his fingers, every time he played, I wanted to hear it forever. Which was also part of the reason I asked him to meet me later. I hope he brings his guitar again, and I hope I can hear it once more…

o0o

But, he wasn't in that little alley way. _Where could he-? Oh, did he not come? No, that's not-_ I looked up and… _Oh. Shit._ I had wished for it, I truly had, but it was overwhelming to see him sitting there with the most beautiful blue I have ever seen under his slender and amazingly pale arms practically shining in the sunlight. Both of them! And the way his hair fell over his eyes as he looked to the strings and played with them aimlessly. I shoved away the attraction as much as I possibly could.

Damn… I'm crushing on a boy, and I don't even know his _name_. Much less what he sounds like talking! God! Am I really that much of an idiot?! Well, those are to be answered later as I walked up to where my knee was at his shoulder and he looked up. I smiled as he smiled back. But that was short lived as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The deadly smoke wafted from his face. I wanted to pluck it from said pretty face, but I simply sat, our knees brushing together.

Instantly, the cigarette was pointed up in an effort to help him see easier as he looked back to the guitar in his arms, "It's beautiful you know?" I complimented and he didn't respond as I added, "The guitar, I mean. I love it," I admitted as I looked down at my hands fiddling with themselves in my lap.

He didn't say anything when I looked back up, just stared at me with those very light blue and grey eyes. I noticed the smoke gather a bit sexily at one end of his plush lips, then drifting off as he pushed the rest away with it. I really, so badly wanted to crush that thing under my heel, maybe replace it with… stop it. Just stop. I looked away a bit, my face getting red, I know.

Then I remembered a way I could get the cigarette to fall from his lips. "I was thinking, Molly said about how you sing sometimes. Maybe, if you won't talk to me, could you sing for me?" I know it's silly, but it could work. And I would finally be able to hear him. But all he did was shrug, "Stop shrugging at me," I stared and he grinned through the cig and smoke.

He shrugged again, and I gathered a huge breath, letting it go again slowly as he sighed. He seemed to be pondering something, then he just reached around me, carefully pulling my phone from my pocket. I willed the heat not to show on my face as he clicked about, typing a message. **I won't sing unless you sing with me. Know I've Got This Friend by the Civil Wars? **Was on the screen when he pushed it back,andI couldn't help but to be surprised with my eyebrows gathering in the middle. "You like them?" I asked, baffled.

"One would be lead to believe… Then again, _I_ like them," I pointed out. "Of course I know that song, one of my favourites," I smiled as I admitted and he nodded. I slipped my phone back in my pocket as he finally stamped out that fucking cigarette. Good, his lips are more beautiful without it anyway. Then I realized, "You start. I dunno where to start, but if you do, I'll know where to follow," I said. I also then figured out, "Guess that means I'm taking Joy's role, then, aren't I?" he nodded and I shrugged.

It doesn't change the meaning of the song, and I sure as hell don't give two shits. "Alright," I agreed and his fingers instantly and a little without warning, started with the notes that I recognized. Not long after the sweet sound mesmerized the hell out of me, his voice did something else. It was… I'm not even sure. Like silk? Chocolate? Well, it made me melt like chocolate, that's for sure.

I barely even caught on when I was supposed to start the chorus with him. And even after that, it was a struggle to properly get out on my own, "I got this friend… I don't think you know her. She sings a simple song.. It sounds a lot like his… Ooh, I've got this friend, she's holding onto her heart.. Like it's a little sec-ret. Like it's all she's got to give…"

Actually, now that I think about this, here singing this with him, the lyrics seemed fitting to us. At least to me, anyway. I have no idea about him. God, that reminded me that I have no idea who he is, and I'm still falling hard. But I let it all slide, refocusing on the words being formed absently by my mind, and now that I'm paying attention, I catch, "She sounds lovely…" Holy fuck, his voice. "He sounds right out of a dream," _you do…._ _Wait, what? Jeez, quit it! You're singing, not ogling!_

Luckily, and sadly, actually, the song ended before I could embarrass myself further by thinking about him so much. Though, to be fair to myself, he is sitting right there, even our knees touching as he had decided to put his guitar down in the red of the black case sitting beside him on the sidewalk.

I was still a bit dazed from how beautiful he was, his features, his skin, his hair, his voice, and by now, I'm sure his name… his _everything_.. _His_ everything… _His everything_… But then, he spoke, and it sounded so different from his singing. It was deep, richly so, and I am definitely not complaining as I heard him say to me, "Not exactly what I want for a voice, but not disappointing, yeah?" _Oh no, baby, it's fucking amazing…_

But all I could do was mouth at words, as I wanted to kiss him so bad. I don't even know what he did, or what my problem was, but I wanted to. Maybe it was just him being.. him? I don't know, but the need was there. "I think I should get this out of the way right now," he said turning to me and I nodded for him to go on. "The reason, that I don't usually talk to people…." he started and I nodded once more for him to continue.

"Well, I do this thing. I.. I deduce things, that aren't exactly nice things to say, according to most people," and he seemed to be sitting closer than he was before, part of his thigh now brushing against mine.

"Alright, then," I kind of didn't want to believe him, thinking he may just be bragging, but okay. "And you think this will do to me what it does to other people? Tell me what you see," I offered and he reached back for my mobile, unsheathing it from the pocket once more, twirling it in his hand.

"This," he gestured to the phone, "tells me a lot in itself," he explained. Then the tangent continued to about my 'brother' as Harry is her nickname, making her sound male, and it's engraved on the phone she got and in turn gave to me as a gift. And how her and Clara split up, that was when the drinking got a lot worse and Clara didn't like it. That, he left out, of course, not being able to get that from a phone, but still.

Instead, he went on into Harry's drinking. Of which she had toned down _a lot_ lately, but when she owned this phone, apparently she had shaky fingers. Then he suddenly stopped with the phone, going on to me and the way a I dress, the music I listen to, and what kind of person I happen to be. Like the fact that I may put up a front, but really, I'm a bookworm and I study to get straight As, occasionally Bs, but still.

"And that's really all I can come up with, most of it being in your phone, but that's it," he shrugged as I slowly took the mobile back and slid it in my pocket. And I really must not have been thinking straight, because my next actions were completely out of the ordinary. Not for me, really, but usually this is a good friend that's become more, not a boy that I barely know, that I've latched myself onto, pushed to the sidewalk and claimed as mine with my lips.

But it really just couldn't be helped. He was completely sexy, his looks and his voice. And that deduction thing was spot on, except for the fact that Harry is in fact, my sister. But otherwise, it was exactly right, and about me, he was correct and he plays guitar! He was just so tempting to kiss with those fluffy lips and the voice that carried smoothly from them. He was so much like me in appearance, but so much better in personality.

Then I realized, I don't even know his name… I pulled away, breathless as he too, lay panting under me as I had pinned him to the concrete. Instantly, I jumped off of him, sitting once again and apologizing three times over for my idiotic actions and he just laid there, humming in thought. "Sherlock Holmes," he said suddenly and it took me a moment to realize that that must be his name.

"Sherlock?" I let it roll sweetly off of my tongue and he nodded, sitting up again as well and what he had done next was as unpredictable as what I had done, and in the same exact way. He pinned me to the sidewalk, eyeing me, then his lips were sprawled across mine, slightly parted and begging for me to push back. Which I obliged in, and he sighed into me, as if this was something he had been waiting for as well.

Surely not, though. I have heard a lot about Sherlock since Molly has been trying to make him sound nice. Mostly because everyone else only had to say that he was a freak, or a stalker, or the really stupid ones that said they thought that he wasn't human. Well, now I have proof he's human. I am curious, though, to know his reasons behind doing this to me.

And he didn't react the way I did after the kiss, rising slowly from my lips to look to my dazed eyes as his were fighting to stay open as well. He gulped, and I realized he had moved his knees to either sides of my hips, and his arms trapped my head. "I'm sorry," he whispered as his eyes told me he was so not sorry, and I shook my head.

"No, you're not, and neither was I," I grinned lightly as I nodded and his lips twitched at the corner. He said nothing more as he sat up on the curb again, the same bored expression returning. Suddenly he was up off of the sidewalk, moving his now cased guitar to the bike he had parked just a few feet away from where he was sitting, and I couldn't help the grin that spread further across my face.

As he was putting everything up, his guitar and the book bag that was apparently flung to the sidewalk, I took silent steps to approaching him. Just as he had the guitar strapped down, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him as close as possible as he yelped and jumped in surprise. Using the height difference of my standing on the sidewalk and him on the side of the road to whisper in his ear. "I need you to be mine," kissing his neck as softly as I could manage.

"John, what do you mean?" he asked in return and I sighed, resting my chin on his shoulder and hugging him tighter.

But I ignored the question, answering it anyway, but ignoring the fact that he had asked it, "I've been wondering what the coffee in there tasted like since yesterday," I nodded to the shop in front of us. "Can we get some?" I asked and his body went rigid with something, fear? Of what, though? Of a date? No, that can't be right. Can it?

But his next question just proved my suspicions, "What, like.. like a date?" he could barely say it, as it was almost a whisper and I nodded.

"I don't know what it is about you, Sherlock, but you have to be mine. I've never done this sort of thing before. Not knowing someone and still wanting them to be around all the time, as I'm sure you've never been on a date with that reaction, so.. can we figure this out together?" I suggested and he leaned back into me.

He nodded, but that soon faded into him tilting his head to the side as I trailed soft whispers of kisses to his neck, and behind his ear, my nose buried in his soft curls. But he seemed to gain more control after a few more that were laid across his skin, carefully pulling himself free of my arms as his face was adorned in a pink that I created. I created that.. heh, this will definitely be different. Even fun, maybe…

* * *

Playing the guitar and singing, I can handle. Our knees brushing together, and maybe even part of our thighs was okay. But after I spoke, deduced him, and he pinned my down under himself on the sidewalk… My brain seemed to short circuit, not knowing what to do, and yet, I was kissing back, pushing and moving my lips against his. Was it supposed to feel like my stomach was churning with joy? Or like his lips were burning kisses to mine?

And when he had separated from me, I wasn't finished, _Oh no you don't_. I didn't care that he was apologizing, he left too soon and this is what he gets. To be pinned down by me now, as small and parted lipped, but firm kisses were given back. I'm sure we got dirty looks, or curious ones. But, there wasn't any thought at that moment that wasn't of John's lips under my own.

They were soft, a bit slim against mine, but so easy to melt into. I wanted so bad to play with them in between my teeth, or lick across them, but I couldn't keep breathing like this. I needed more than shallow breaths and sometimes not even that as my breath caught a few times. So I disconnected, my eyes still a bit dazed while I recovered.

But once I had, I had actually realized what was done, how I couldn't take it back, and I quickly breathed out an apology. He just shook his head, but I was already sitting up on the curb. _I can't take this back…_ Absent mindedly, I strapped down my guitar, my book bag going in front of it, and I squeaked with a jump at the arms wrapping around my waist as, presumably John, pulled me closer. Yup, John, as he started kissing my neck tenderly and all I could do to not get lost was sigh. Then a whisper came to my ear and I froze, "I need you to be mine." _Yours?_

"John, what do you mean?" I asked, for fear he was suggesting what I thought he was. No, that can't happen. I don't get attached..

He ignored my question, "I've been wondering what the coffee in there tasted like since yesterday," he nodded to the little café and even though he never answered, he still answered. "Can we get some?" and if I wasn't shocked before, this did it.

"What, like.. like a date?" I asked, truly bewildered at this boy's actions.

He didn't answer that question, either. You know, he seems a bit like me in that aspect. Always avoiding a direct answer. "I don't know what it is about you, Sherlock, but you have to be mine. I've never done this sort of thing before. Not knowing someone and still wanting them to be around all the time, as I'm sure you've never been on a date with that reaction, so.. can we figure this out together, then?" I leaned back into him, nodding as it eventually faded to leaning so he could easily press his lips lightly to my neck and that spot behind my ear.

Again, I regained my senses, pulling John's arms from my figure as I stepped up onto the sidewalk once more. But I ended up looking back at the confused boy, and I smiled. His hand rose from his side, but not enough to be considered up. Almost like he was considering something. And I instantly understood as he stepped closer, offering his hand, palm up, to me at my elbow.

I accepted, easily letting him join our fingers, too. I guess this will be one of those things where he's shy. I really could care less if someone stares. My business is mine only, if they've got a problem, they should hesitate to speak to me about it…

* * *

Being on a date with Sherlock was awkward, as he had warned me about. He had said he had no idea how to be in a relationship, especially with a male. I believed him, as him kissing me had screamed of inexperience. But I don't care, as I said, "I want you, I need you, in fact. So, just please, let me have you?" and he had nodded, blushing, but had accepted.

Although, when I got home, after watching Sherlock sexily drive away and after having a refreshing walk to think about what I've just done, it might as well have been hell. My sister hounded me all around the house about where I'd been and I told her, "With Sherlock, just leave me alone about it," I begged and she punched me playfully on the shoulder.

"No way! Tell me more about this Sherlock character. That's such a strange name, don't you think?" and I had to listen to her babble on for hours like that. Asking me questions that I blindly answered unless it was an awkward one. Which was almost all of them, but still. Then, "Is he your boyfriend?" she rose a brow as I stood at the table, looking down at her in confusion, as she sat in a chair beside her.

"You keep avoiding my questions, is that because you snogged him? Oh, you did, didn't you?! You're a very bad boy, John. Wait until Mum and Dad find out!" she giggled and I rolled my eyes, groaning in protest as I sat down and she awed at me… ugh…

* * *

**John's a very sexual person, apparently... I dunno why I gave him past experience, but I did... Oh well!**


	4. Oh! Do Please Tell!

I've Got This Friend

Four: Oh! Do Please Tell!

(First Person/ Sherlock's POV)

I told him, I tried to tell him I was no good at social things, especially dating and romance. It's something I really suck at. And he just said he didn't care. I tried to tell him not to want me, too. And again, he skid right past it, telling me to just shut up and be appreciated. Then, "How could I do that when I've never been appreciated? I don't really think I should be anyway, seeing as what I do to people I do like is 'mean'."

He shot me a stern look, "That's what _people_ think, Sherlock. Not what _you_ should think, and _not_ what _I_ think, either. Honestly, I love your brilliance, and if you don't, I will love it until you do, too. Understand?" he had reached across and patted my hand as I couldn't find anything to say back. All I could was hide the pink and wonder what his problem was.

"You know, there's another thing," I said suddenly as he rose a brow at me. "People don't exactly accept people like us just yet, and I don't think it would be wise-"

"Shut up, Sherlock," my head snapped up at that to give him a glare. But then, "If they want to make a fuss, let them. I'll have you know that if they lay a finger on you, I will break it, do you hear me? I don't care what people think or do. I care for you, and that's it," he explained. "They can eat my dick trying to find how many fucks I give, they'll be searching forever in that one," he added in a mumble and I laughed.

"Wouldn't that hurt?" I challenged and he smirked at me.

"Maybe," he admitted and we both broke out into giggles. I've never felt this good. For some reason, he makes me happy, unreasonably so. I barely know him, and if he'll betray me or something stupid like that, but that's not what I'm worried about right now. Of course, I can't let myself get attached until I can trust him, but at least I can finally be happy.

Which was why I laughed with him, I talked and I pretty much just enjoyed my time with him. Until, of course, it started getting late and he claimed he had to get back for dinner. And I guess I should go home as well. Parents might be worried by now. Even though they won't be back home until morning, Mycroft still tells them when I get home. He's just like the security cameras he uses… It's annoying as hell. But, "Well, I really should go, John. I'll see you tomorrow, though. It's only Tuesday, we have a whole week ahead of us," I smiled and he smiled back.

"Alright," his arms were about my neck as I held him close and he sighed in contentment. I was glad to see someone enjoy my company as well, it made me feel like I was needed. According to John, I am, but I don't know about that… We'll just have to see.

So, there it ended, with me planting two soft kisses to his lips, gearing up, leaving him a two finger salute with a grin, and he grinned back, returning the salute, and I suspect he watched as I suddenly sped off. But, speed is the only way to drive a motorcycle, isn't it? At least, I think so. Which is why I always have people staring. Ugh, people.. Eventually though, I was 'home'. If that's what you could call it anymore. It's more like a place to rest than a place to live.

"Sherlock! That took long enough," Mycroft commented as I walked by the living room, stripping my jacket and hanging it before I grunted and took to the stairs, getting to my room with each silent footed one. I could hear him sigh as I finally made it up all the way, and I think he's texting now.. Urgh. Now, tomorrow morning, my parents are going to bug me about where I was. Not that they'll care once I tell them. But they'll still ask…

o0o

It's late, I'm yawning up a storm, and I already took care of showering before I started on the assigned homework. Yes, I do my homework.. So, I stripped, climbing into bed after turning off the lights to my room and putting away everything I had been messing about with. Mainly my guitar and that wretched invention called homework, but some other things as well. Now, it's just time for sleep…

o0o

It was quiet. Almost too quiet. I heard murmuring downstairs, but that was it. I dressed quickly and rushed downstairs to know what they were talking about. Apparently that was irrelevant when I actually reached the kitchen. "Sherlock! Where did you go yesterday? Mycroft says you didn't get home until seven!" Mummy exclaimed and I rolled my eyes.

"I was with.. a friend. There really is no reason he should have to report my actions," I scoffed at Mycroft and was about to simply go back upstairs, but the next thing my dad said caught me.

"Myc says it wasn't just a friend," I froze, glaring at Mycroft as he smirked.

"Really, now? And just who else would I have been with?" I turned round again and Dad grinned.

"Oh, I don't know, a girlfriend. Or perhaps a boyfriend?" he queried and I sighed in exasperation. I guess, with Mycroft and Mother around, they'll know at some point. But I said nothing as I could feel Mycroft staring at me from the kitchen chair he took a liking to. Mummy was making morning tea and Dad was sitting at the head of the table.

"Yes, Sherlock, why don't you tell them about your significant other?" Mycroft asked and I snorted a fake laugh while giving him a 'Shut up,' glare.

"You don't even know if I have one or not, so you can't ask that," I stated and he rose a brow to challenge me. I sighed, sitting down beside Father and trying to explain this. "Well, there's this.. new kid, and I met them while I was hanging around my spots, you know," I smirked, "blasting my music and doing whatever the hell I wish," Dad coughed suggestively at me and I grinned sheepishly.

"Anyway, this.. person, liked my music and tried talking to me. Of course, like anyone else, I ignored their requests to talk back. It was quite amusing to see them get frustrated, but then yesterday, now mind you I can usually last three days before giving up and talking to someone, but I played and sang with them. Then I talked, and…" I didn't want to say it, it sounded so silly to explain because one, John's a boy, two, I have never done this dating thingy before. Well, not for my own purposes.

"And?" Mummy prompted and I cleared my throat nervously, threading my fingers together over the table and looking to them as I fidgeted.

"Well, they…" then I just owned up to it, figuring if they were going to disapprove now, it would be now and better than later. "John kissed me, and asked me to be his boyfriend. He got me coffee in my favourite coffee shop, and.. John is my boyfriend, I guess," I fidgeted once more as Mother's eyes widened at the fact that I had that it was a boy and my Father looked at me as if I was someone else. Not a bad look, just bewildered. Mycroft just shrugged, as if- well, actually he probably _does_ deal with a lot of LGBT people, honestly.

"John? Would his last name happen to Watson?" Mummy asked and I furrowed a confused brow at her.

"Yes, why? Has he done something?" instantly I thought perhaps she heard his name because he did something bad, because I have no idea what to expect from him just yet.

"Oh no, quite the opposite. I met his mum, I was out and about, and I found her in the grocery store, of all places," as if no one meets another in a store, I internally scoffed. "She was having trouble, and I helped her," That's Mummy for you. "Then we really got to talking, and she mentioned her children. Does John have an older sister?"

Then it clicked and my mistake became obvious, "Sister! There's always something!" I whispered to myself and she chuckled, knowing I had done it again. "But yes, she was an alcoholic?" she nodded sadly and I shrugged. "That aside, what did his mum have to say about John?" I was curious.

Mummy smiled, partially grinning, actually. "She loves that boy more than anything. He gets straight As, he doesn't cause trouble… She says he's a blessing compared to that sister of his. But we won't go into that, now will we?" no, no thanks.

"Actually, Harry has been improving a lot lately," I said before I could catch myself and Mummy just grinned wider. I simply looked back to Father who was still staring at me as if he was trying to figure out where Sherlock went and how I was here.

"I- I'm sorry, did you just tell me you have a boyfriend?" he was still completely shocked.

"Yyyeesss, I did, is that a problem?" I asked, tilting my head slightly as he smiled.

"Not at all, it's just.. You've had girlfriends before, but a boyfriend? Where did this come from?" he asked, sipping the tea Mummy suddenly set down in front of him.

"Honestly, not even I am sure. Usually I don't have a significant other unless it benefits me in some way. Besides affection," I admitted and Mycroft snorted.

"Then why suddenly have you started dating John? Is there something he has that you want?" Myc asked as my parents just gave me the 'That's A Bad Sherlock' glare, and I leaned back in my chair, considering this, actually. I couldn't think of anything I'd want from him.. except. Perhaps, it really is just infatuation?

So I shook my head, "No, I just.. like him, I don't know," I hated to admit, but it was true.

"He has love, darling, that's what Sherlock is after," Mummy answered Mycroft's question to me. "I don't blame him, either. John sounds like a nice boy, and no harassing your brother about it, Myc," she warned and Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"John is.. a nice boy. Anyway, can I go now?" I asked in haste and she chuckled.

"Why are you in such a rush? Don't you still have another hour before you're supposed to leave?" she asked and I shrugged.

"It's just that usually I grab something down here to drink, and then I'm upstairs on my guitar. Mycroft knows, he's always complaining about it," I said and Mycroft just distracted himself with the morning paper. Who even reads that, anyway? It's so boring.

"Guitar? Oh, that blue beauty you cart around everywhere? The one I heard last night?" Father asked and I nodded. "Why don't you just play it down here, then? I'm sure your mother and I would love to hear it," he suggested and I shrugged as he sent a glare at Mycroft, the one that said he should be more appreciative of what I do.

"Well, I have things to do early this morning," Mycroft said, making an excuse and dashing from the kitchen to wherever, and I stood as well.

"Would you really want me to play for you?" I asked and he nodded as Mummy smiled sweetly.

"Could you please, dear? I haven't heard a stringed instrument in forever!" she exclaimed and sat with her own cuppa as I too, dashed out of the kitchen, except to my room as I heard Mycroft leave the house completely. Good, all he'd do is complain about the noise. Even though, I love said noise, so I grabbed the case and rushed back down the stairs.

"You really work those stairs, don't you?" Father asked and I smiled, placing the black on the wooden table and opening it to the red inside, and the blue that I love so much. My father scooted closer to try to get a better look. So I lifted it out of the case, finding a chair and sitting down as I do what I always do at first.

My fingers brushed over the strings, simply feeling them hum in tune and I pursed my lips as I went back over the ones that sounded a bit off. There, that sounds right now, and I did one final sweep to make sure. Yep, it's all good. Even Mummy took a break from rushing about the kitchen to sit and listen, so I focused a lot more on the wordless notes I had memorized by now.

I'm not even sure what I just played, because I had switched between songs, and it sounded a bit strange, but when I looked to my parents under my lashes, my mum was star struck as Dad just pondered what to say. "This is what you chose instead of the violin?" he asked and I could see Mummy was about to slap him for criticizing, but I nodded.

"I still know how to play it, obviously, but I like this better," I gestured to the guitar as I admitted this, and he smiled.

"You taught yourself, dear?" Mummy asked and I nodded, giving a tight lipped smile as she just stared at me in slight disbelief.

"It was a little easy to transition, they both have strings, and even some of the notes are the same finger positions, so.. I just took what I know, a chart of notes and chords, and taught myself. After a year of simply learning, I started actually playing songs. Now, I think I'm going to start making my own," sad that I have to sit here and tell them that, when they should have asked a long time ago.

"Just how long have you been playing?" Mummy asked and I shrugged, again, sad that she has to ask.

"Maybe… two, three years? Yea, coming on three years," I nodded in confirmation and she tsked.

"We've missed so much. So this is what Mycroft kept complaining about?" she asked and I nodded again as she rolled her eyes. "No matter what he says, don't stop playing, and that whole no feelings thing he's got going on, don't believe him. He has emotions, he just doesn't show them. I suppose sometimes that's okay, but not always," she explained and I shrugged again. "Come on, play something else! I just love the sound of that thing!" she begged and I sighed…

o0o

Playing for my parents left me to decide that this morning, I will leave my guitar at home. I can't take having another audience, I've had my fill for the day, thanks. So I just left, doing the same thing I always do with dashing out from under the garage door. Heh, if I don't do that in the morning, there's something wrong.

Finally, I'm someplace I can have- Oh, fucking fuck you. "Sherlock? What happened to the guitar?" one girl asked and her friends nodded in agreement as I rolled my eyes and pushed past them. I got a lot of disappointed looks, but I pushed past them, marching all the way up the steps. John was chatting with Molly again, at the top and I'm glad she didn't ask, although both of them gave me a funny look when I sat down beside John without a case in my hands.

"Don't ask," I warned and John scooted closer, giving my cheek a kiss then making me look at him. My eyes instantly found his and I smiled as he was already doing.

"If I wanted the guitar, I would have taken it by now, Sherlock," he's so beautiful smiling like that. "Besides, no offense to the beautiful blue, but you're much more interesting," his fingers were under my chin as his thumb rubbed across my bottom lip. He got closer, his breath ghosting over my lips, "Tell me to stop," he said.

"_Don't _stop," I smirked and soon enough that was wiped from my lips as his settled over them. Apparently Molly had been talking to someone else and just now looked back over, because I heard a gasp of an, "Oh!" and giggling, then the footsteps that told me they had left.

Good, I want this to be all mine, I don't need an audience for kissing John. What I need to do is get closer. But that apparently had already been thought of, because John scooted closer, nudging his knee against my thigh before he was sitting on top of me. I looked up at him in surprise. "Much easier, now isn't it?" I then grinned as he gave a breath of a chuckle and his lips settled over mine again as his hand was at the nape of my neck, playing with my curls.

The other grabbed one of my hands, lacing our fingers together and resting them in his lap as the one at my neck went up further, burying his fingers. I guess he really likes it, then? Never thought much of my hair, but okay. What shocked me most was when his tongue traced carefully over my slightly parted lips, then receding to give a soft kiss. When he did it again, I nipped at the tip and he chuckled as I smirked mischievously into the next kiss. "Please?" he whispered against me and I smiled.

"Always," where that came from, I don't know, but then he did it again, and I met him in the middle. I thought he sounded sweet, looked dashing, but he tasted delicious. And his fingers pulling at my hair only made it better as I pulled him down with me.

Since we were sitting at the top of the steps, where he and Molly had been talking, I could easily bring him down on top of me, moving my hands to his face, bringing him closer and keeping him there. His cheeks were so smooth under my fingertips, I guess this was what gave him the illusion of having soft skin, then. Still, it felt too good to stop.

But he did, to stupidly ask, "Where did you learn to kiss like that?" breathless as I rose a brow in confusion.

"Kiss like what?" I asked and he chuckled.

"Like you actually know what you're doing. I barely remembered we were outside of the school," he admitted and I grinned.

"We're at school, since when did that happen?" and I pulled him back in for more, this time, my fingers were sheathed in the golden locks of John's hair and it was so soft.

That was when I heard giggling again, but it wasn't Molly and her friends. I decided to ignore it though, snogging John until neither of us could think straight. But, he tasted so good, like the sun feels against your skin as you sit in the corner of your favourite spot, listening to your favourite tunes. No, that's not it. No, he tasted like it feels to get goose bumps from how amazing the instrument of my own sounds under my arms. Meaning he made me feel… Safe, calm, like he was the only thing keeping me from stumbling over the edge into insanity, exactly like my guitar makes me feel. No one has ever been able to help me feel this before…

But the giggling didn't stop as I heard the most familiar voice, and I separated from John to growl at the words sung in the most disgustingly teasing song, "Freak's got a boyfriend, Freak's got a boyfriend…"

* * *

**A/N: Now we get to the part where people think it's funny to harass Sherlock and John.. yay..**


	5. I Don't Even Know

I've Got This Friend

Five: I Don't Even Know

John buried his face in my neck as I think he suspects I sent them a glare. Which I did, so he'd be right. I don't think he knows who they were, but I do. Not their names, but I know what they do around the school. Then I heard whispered angrily in my ear, "If you want everyone to stay alive, Sherlock, don't let me leave your grip," I could see his hands curl into themselves until his knuckles were white against my black jeans and my arms instantly wrapped around his waist to hold him closer.

"John, it's okay, she just doesn't understand, and neither does anyone else," I said and he buried himself further. "Hey, maybe we should just leave? We need to get to class anyway," I suggested and I could feel him shake his head as the bell rang. The girl never did leave, she just stood there, sniggering provocatively and whispering with her friends, glancing at us at moments.

"Sherlock," he whispered in question and I looked to his shoulder, humming for him to continue as he sighed, "do you know her?" he asked and I shook my head no.

"No, I don't," technically I'm not lying, "but she doesn't seem worth my time anyway," I said and he chuckled. "Seriously, though, I am not being late and getting in trouble again, and you have your grades to keep, so we need to go," I repeated and he finally nodded in agreement. But, he didn't start standing until he grabbed my face in both hands, and pressed his lips lightly to mine.

He started slowly, making my legs move with his until I was taller again, and I was the one in control. Though, it didn't last long before he decided we really needed to go now. So, we picked up our stuff from the steps, and ignored the bitch (my language is terrible when I'm not actually speaking) and her friends, long enough to get inside and get to class. This is also why I am so glad we have all of our classes together…

o0o

John and I were on the stairs again, I guess it's become our spot, and he was munching on a sandwich while I was trying to finish the homework from our first half of the day's classes when those idiots came back round. Guess I should memorize her curls and her snotty stuck up face as well as her friends' if I want to learn who to avoid. John looked up from my papers to the girls, "Oh," he swallowed the last bite, "hi there," he gave a little wave and one of the girls giggled, then the dark haired/ skin coloured girl glared at her.

"You do know who you're leaning against, don't you?" she asked John, and just her voice made me want to hit her. Which I almost never have the impulse to do.

"Yes, actually, I do," luckily, he was on my left side, because he grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together in a possessive sort of bond.

"So, you know that he's a freak, right? And that you're the only friend he's had since, well, since forever, really?" she asked and John shrugged as I finally looked up to glare at her from under my lashes.

But then it hit him that she called me a freak, and anger instantly made him tremble, but he somehow pulled off the 'nice face' to tell her, "First of all, he's not a freak, he's special to me. And second of all, you only say that because you're jealous, 'cause he has a boyfriend, and you don't," he grinned and it wasn't warm at all.

And all I could do was sit there and look from him to her, and blush uncontrollably as I smirked down at the paper I tried to focus upon once more. But all the words became jumbled up and I couldn't focus at all, all I could hear was him saying I was special to him and I was someone to be jealous of.

But I did speak, "Just for the sake of me trying to get everything in the right order, what does your name happen to be?" I looked up to the girl in the front and she grinned.

"I'm surprised you haven't 'deduced' it yet," she snorted and I rolled my eyes.

"There are many things I can deduce about you, like the fact that you've had a recent break up and John's right about you being jealous, but your name, ma'am," I sneered, "eludes me," I smiled again and her eyes widened, as John chuckled beside me.

"My name is Sally, but I don't have time for two homos that like to make out in front of the school because now someone needs to clean up the concrete because it's got gaymo all over it," she snapped, and off she walked. John was seething while I just worked at putting everything away, because I actually just finished in all that. Again, they think I'm an idiot, just like everyone else. How stupid can they really be?

"John, I hope you know I don't care what they think," I said and he shook his head violently.

"No, I know. And neither do I, it's just infuriating that they have to do that when all I want to see and hear is you," he looked to me and smiled, calming from the stupidity of Sally (apparently) and her friends. "Honestly, I don't care what you think, as long as it's about me," he grinned and I rolled my eyes.

"I have that song on my IPod, you know," I commented and he laughed.

"That's not what I was looking for as an answer, but okay. It's one of my favourites, too," he chuckled and I shrugged. Then he actually got serious, "Hey, um, my family has been wondering about you, since I guess I talk a lot about you, and er, I was wondering, if you could swing by some time, and maybe I could do the same for you?" he asked and I smiled, blushing a bit as he simply looked to me for an answer.

My eye flicked from the stairs, to my halfway zipped book bag, to John and back again. "Like, today?" I asked, unsure of what else to say or ask.

He shrugged, "If you want," then he went to playing with the zipper on his black vest that covered the red band tee. "I also know that you don't go straight home after school, so maybe I could call or text or something and say I can just ride home with you?" he suggested and I smiled.

"You're just trying to cop a ride on my bike, aren't you?" I asked and it was his turn to blush. And blush he did, a bright red with a smirk of 'innocence'.

"Well, it's this pretty purple, and you look sexy on it," I rolled my eyes and he hastily added, "you know you do," he admitted and I grinned.

"Then why don't you text now, and ride with me later?" I asked and he nodded furiously. I knew he was eyeing it for a while, but I didn't really think he actually wanted to ride with me on it. I figured it was one of those things that you'll always be jealous about but never ask.

Then again, this is John, and he's very open about his opinions and such. Which is why I can't help but to love him. I know it sounds weird, and I really shouldn't, but I do. Already, I do. Even if it's not deep and engrained in my soul, I still love him to pieces. I just hope he feels the same way…

o0o

Apparently, he really enjoyed riding my bike, because he was full of excitement and I think a little adrenaline afterwards, asking when he could do it again, or if he wouldn't ever be able to, and I just laughed. His face was adorable, and I couldn't help it when I kissed him, maybe it was to silence him, but it was also because he was just too adorable for me not to.

But what I didn't exactly expect was when his hands were instantly buried in my curls, holding me in place, only so he could shove his tongue through my slightly parted lips. He whimpered into my lips, and I held him closer, making my groin come in contact with his abdomen and apparently I was already sorta turned on, because when that happened, I gasped at how good it felt. This time, when I was holding him closer, it was because that felt too good to stop doing it over and over.

"Sh-Sherlock!" he whispered into my lips. "Quit it, we can't-" and I cut him off with another kiss. But he broke free, wriggling in my arms and I finally stopped, realizing that we really shouldn't, and couldn't. "What was that about?" he asked, and I shook my head, panting lightly and still flushed from the kisses. "Well, we should probably get inside, before you feel the need to do it again," he chuckled and I blushed harder.

I apologized before words skipped their way out, "I just- it- I don't know what happened I-" and John just nodded in the confirmation on his own thoughts.

"It's alright," he said, now that we were in the hallway of the building, whatever hot and tight feeling I had was gone, and I also just noticed that he lives on the first floor. Interesting enough, I guess. His flat was small, but not crushingly so. His sister was in the kitchen, and she smiled at us, sipping at whatever was in her mug. "Harry? Where're Mum and Dad?" he asked and she pointed back the hallway, leaning over the table a bit to do so, since the kitchen was at the tip of it and the living room was across from said kitchen, making the hall in the middle.

I watched John give a questioning look and her shrug her shoulders, as if to say she had no idea. Ah, sibling communication, which I completely understand. Mycroft and I are on a different level with that one, but we still do it just the same. I closed the door with my heel, a little harder than I should have and John glared at me, clenching his jaw and I grinned with my hands behind my back as I shrugged and he rolled his eyes. "Aren't you going to go back there?" I asked and he pursed his lips in thought. We both dropped our shit by the door, planning to do the rest of our homework later, as I had helped john finish during lunch.

And he replied with, "Better not, knowing them something embarrassing is happening, and I am not going in there, Harry can tell vouch for me in that one," he lazily gestured to his sister and she shook her head vigorously in agreement and to tell me not to go back there. So I just shrugged and John smiled. "You do know you don't have to stand there looking awkward. But, I erm, I need the loo, I'll be back," he pointed and I nodded, walking to where Harry was sitting.

"You're a looker, aren't you? Turn about, let me see you," she swirled her finger in the air and I tilted my head slightly in confusion, but did as I was told, slowly turning on my heels as she made a humming noise that signaled she was thinking about something. "I like you. You're that Sherlock kid, aren't you?" she asked and I rose a brow to her, but nodded as I sat down in front of her.

I crossed my ankles under the chair, pulling my feet to rest on my toes in this position and my elbows fell to the table top, supporting my hands that supported in return supported my chin as she asked, "You don't talk much, do you?"

My hands landed on the table top, folded over one another as my back straightened and I was about to bolt out deductions, like I always do upon meeting someone who wants me to talk, and suddenly John's hand was around my mouth, slightly damp from washing them. "You don't want to make him do that," he explained and I glared at him as I bit down on his palm. "Ow!" and he pulled away, rubbing his thumb to where my teeth left a faint mark.

Harry giggled and I rolled my eyes, but I gave John a smirk that said, 'Serves you right' and he scowled back. But he settled, taking a seat in between Harry and I. "Why shouldn't he speak? He did it just fine earlier," she asked and John exhaled deeply.

"Sherlock- he has this thing, where he deduces stuff and it's not exactly nice things. True things, but not very nice. He did it to me when we met for the fourth time, and it was amazing, but with the way your past is, I don't want him doing that to you, so.. can we not?" he asked, his eyes skipping between his sister and I.

"Right," she nodded, but wasn't satisfied, "you told me about that, but I don't believe it for one second. Hit me with your best shot," and John's eyes widened as I sucked in a breath and let it escape, letting the words flow because I had nothing better to say than what I could obviously see.

"Well, first of all, your fading lipstick tells me you went on a date last night, but as always, it didn't come off all the way, cheap products almost never do," and her smirk faded as I continued. "The way your slouching, I can tell _some_one had a rough night, and we all know what I'm talking about. Your hair's in disarray, and you have coffee in your cup, telling me you actually just got out of bed, which also tells me you don't have to work today, as it's _really_ late for someone to just be getting out of bed. Which in turn, tells me that you have a job with the fast food industry, or maybe something else that pays little but gets you by and is part-time, not sure, never can be.

"And what I know from John's phone is that you're a recovering alcoholic, just divorced your wife, and obviously you needed help getting back up on your feet or else you'd still be on your own. Which tells me you really loved her, but she didn't love your drinking and _you_ were the one kicked out, which is why you gave away the mobile she gifted you.

"I could go on, but do you really want me to?" I asked when I only had a few things left and she shook her head as John looked absolutely horrified.

She cleared her throat, "No, that was enough," then she turned to John to ask, "and he does that to everyone?" she pointed to me with her elbow resting on the table and her other hand still attached to the coffee mug, as I confirmed it was coffee in there. John nodded and he gave me a look that said he was amazed, but I really didn't need to do that. "Wow. You should be a fucking detective with that brain, maybe they wouldn't all be idiots, then," she complimented and I nodded, _Wait… there was no reason to dis them like that. Did she- oh… _

"Having sex with one isn't a very good idea, as you would know," and at that, John kicked me under the table, "but, yes," I smiled, despite the pain shooting from my shin to tell me John really had good aim. "I want to be the first Consulting Detective," I nodded in confirmation and she rose a brow in confusion.

She wasn't even put off by the fact that I had, yet again, deduced something personal about her life. "What the hell is that?" she asked instead referring to my career of choice and I grinned.

"A Consulting Detective is the person the police go to when they're way out of their depths, which is somehow always," I rolled my eyes and she shrugged, but was interested in what I had said.

"So.. what, you're going to solve cases but not be a Detective Inspector like the rest of them?" she asked and I nodded.

"Oh yeah, those people are just idiots. I want to surpass them, but I am not going to school with even more idiots, no thanks," I explained and she giggled once more.

"I knew I liked you," she said and John shook his head, but he was smiling at us. I returned it, as warmly as I could, and that made him smile wider before his parents actually came out.

"Whoa! Who is this?!" his mother took one good look at me and questions as his father just grinned, knowing exactly who I was. I guess he really does talk about me, a lot. I stood, offering my hand to his father, and he grinned, accepting and shaking my hand. I decided not to say anything, as I deduced just what they were up to back there, and yeah, John was right not to go. His mother gathered me up into a hug and squeezed. I looked to John, flummoxed as to why she was doing this, but John and Harry just chortled.

"Er, can you please let go?" I asked and she chuckled, releasing me as I took a safe step back. "So, I assume you already know my name?" I asked, biting back my other comments about them and they nodded. "Right, well you do know that next weekend I'm stealing John and we're going to see a movie, don't you?" I asked smoothly and his sister gasped and oohed, as if it was so cute, and I just smiled with a raised brow at John.

John shook his head in a fashion that just screamed that he would say, 'You smooth bastard' if he could. But he held a tight lipped smile as his parents just sighed. "You two are completely attached at the hip, aren't you? How long's it been?" his mum asked. "A few days?" I simply kept my mouth shut, knowing it's really only been about three days, as she eventually agreed and Harry just loved the idea of John going on dates again.

And when his parents left, warning us not to mess with stuff before they get back, as they were going someplace I don't care to remember, Harry decided she would prod John about it. "Is 'stuff' going to happen? Like last time? Oh, John that would be wonderful, wouldn't it?" and she prattled on about it as I sat by John, holding his knee under the table, trying to get him to be happy.

"Harry, you do know this is my boyfriend, not yours?" and for some reason, I blushed really hard. So much so that I could feel my cheeks burning.

"Oh, I know, but it's just so cute!" she exclaimed and we both rolled our eyes.

"Well, said 'cute couple' will be in John's room," and I grabbed him by the wrist, saving him with every step I 'made' him take, knowing where his room was already and shoving both of us through as I heard Harry snigger behind us. I just closed the door behind ourselves, willing the world to just go away so I could be alone with John.

"Dear God, thank you," he praised, hugging me and kissing my neck as I grinned.

"Not exactly, but okay," I shrugged and he smacked my arm playfully at that.

"Don't be a smart ass," he warned and I just shrugged again, knowing how much he hates it…

* * *

**A/N: By the way, the song reference, was from Fall Out Boy... Just so you know.**


	6. Once, Twice

I've Got This Friend

Six: Once, Twice…

I know, it's been a year, and you'd expect that Sherlock and I would have done the nasty by now, (maybe a few times) but I was saving it. I've gotten him off a few times, and he's 'experimented' on me a couple other times, (best orgasms of my life) but we never actually got any farther than that. It's shocking, really, with how close we've gotten in such a short while and how little we've done to each other.

But I think tonight's the night. Or at least, I would hope so. I've only ever been with one other boy, and I hope and pray this doesn't end the way that did, but it could happen. Then again, Sherlock's so different, kissing him is different, holding him is different, simply talking to him is so unlike last time that I feel more confident. Although, just because it's not the same, doesn't mean it won't end somehow. One can dream, though, yeah?

Anyway, I'm taking Sherlock to see a movie, like we did over year ago, and I hope he likes it, the date not the movie. The movie can go to hell for all I care, I want him to enjoy his time with me, and the way I am. And by now, if he doesn't like that, then there's something he's not telling me...

o0o

"John," he gasped under my touch and I hummed in approval against his neck as I rocked my hips again, making our clothed arousals rub against one another. His jacket was hung on the back of the chair in front of his desk and his shirt was somewhere on the floor. I was still fully clothed except for my socks and shoes, course he stripped those as well before we even got in his bed. I was holding him under me, having my way with him and making him writhe at the moment as my hips gyrated and our groins came in contact once again.

His hands were attached to my shoulders, gripping hard enough for it to hurt, but I didn't care as I continued kissing from his neck and the mark I delectably left. He was heaving breaths by the time I shifted, making his aching crotch rub across my abdomen and my tongue slithered out to meet his perked nipple as one of my hand's grip on his arm eased, letting go.

I used the free hand to tease at the other pink nub as my teeth nipped and my tongue lulled before I left it with a kiss as the cooling saliva made him whimper. I did the same to the other, now both of my hands running down his torso to his hips, holding them in place as he tried to buck them up to get friction. His fingers threaded through my hair, pulling when I left him again, with just a kiss. But now they looked so delicious against his alabaster skin especially now that they were red, standing on end and longing for me to come back.

I promised him I would handle with care, and that's what this is. Though, I don't think it'll last that long with him moaning almost every breath, but I can try to keep control over the aching erection nestled in my jeans.

My mouth continued on its trek from his chest, after I had placed kisses in spots I knew were sensitive, making him gasp and arch against me, all the way down to his abdomen. I swear, I could feel him throbbing on my chest as I kissed at his sides, teasing with traces of my tongue and a few nips here and there. He tried thrusting up again, at which I bit down, making him yelp and whisper my name once again. "Your body is mine and I will toy with it as I please," I snapped and he groaned, but nodded, his lust clouded eyes begging for me to continue.

My eyes never let his leave my own as I went back to the mark, kissing apologies into his abused skin, giving a flicker of my tongue in finality. His voice seemed to fail him when he started begging for me to just get a move on, because he could barely muster whispers to try. My hands squeezed harder, definitely leaving bruises and his lips left a whimper escape as he desperately tried to make me go farther. The fingers in my hair pulled, and I snarled, biting down again, just above his navel and he howled a moan.

"I told you, Sherlock. Patience," I snipped and he whined. I did as I had done to the other bite mark, kissing my apologies and licking a final time before moving to his other side and this time, he just took it as I explored, trying to find out if I missed a sensitive spot from before when we messed around a bit. I could tell he was trying to control the impulse to thrash and try to make me do more to him.

I nipped at his hip bone and his breathing was out of whack already, but it sped up and I knew I found another one. Guess I should get a move on, though. So, I peppered kisses above and across the waistband of his jeans, then licking back to the middle. He was looking down at me with wide eyes, hoping I was going for it, and I made eye contact, my teeth undoing the button and undoing the zipper, each tooth separating agonizingly slow.

I could tell he wanted to screw his eyes shut, and lean back and just take it. That was why one of my hands went up to cover his eyes as my other slipped the jeans from his hips. His tongue lashed out at my fingers as they slid down his face and over his chest and I ripped the nuisance of material the rest of the way from his body. He gulped loudly, panting out small whimpers and whines when they landed on the floor. I chuckled into his already sprinkled with sweat skin and his fingers left my hair to grip at my shoulders again.

I mouthed kisses over his cock, still covered by his pants and his fingers definitely left bruises as I moved again, completely leaving his aching member untouched and sliding my mouth over his. He accepted, his tongue fighting with mine for dominance as his arms wrapped around my waist, making me come closer. One hand travelled further down, pushing at my arse and rubbing my crotch over his. That was when he noticed I hadn't removed anything besides my shoes and socks.

He huffed, pulling at my shirt, "Too much, please just fucking take it off," he begged and I rolled my eyes, pulling the shirt over my head and it floated to the floor. He shoved his tongue in my mouth again, tasting me endlessly before I played with his lip in between my teeth, nipping and pulling before he moaned. But that didn't last nearly as long as he wanted until I slid from this half of him and went back to his prick.

I've only ever done this to him once, but that gave me enough to tease him with when my hand cupped the erection still covered by soft cloth. He gasped in a breath, his head being thrown back into pillows as the back of his hand coming to his mouth to try to control the noises he was making as I palmed him. My kisses teased at his stomach and I could feel that he was already leaking. It was amusing to know I'm the only one who's ever done any of this to him. It also meant his body is mine and mine only; I can do as I wish whenever I want and however I want.

The unsuccessfully blocked noises sent chills through me, making my cock twitch in the anticipation of what I want to do to him. My hands mercifully clamped down on his hips, pushing his pants down to reveal the beauty I'll get to see for what I hope will be the rest of my life. So pale and so needy and just for me. I hummed in approval under the kiss I laid to his head and he kept making those noises that were like whines, but somehow deeper and not.

I licked at the precum gathered as it started to spill over and he watched me do it, just wanting me to go further, do more. I gave him a playfully evil smirk and he cocked a brow in curiosity as my tongue slid down his shaft, leaving a trail of saliva and dripping precum that he couldn't control anymore. But that's alright, because he was so tasty there was no way I was stopping now.

I left burning kisses all over as my fingers danced up and down his cock, all the way down to cup his bollocks as my mouth enclosed his head, sucking gently, making him wriggle and try to get more. My tongue lapped at his head and a bit of his shaft, making his breathing short as he tried to get more air, but couldn't manage it. The thumb to the hand cradling his balls swiped over his skin, and I could feel him getting closer as I slid my mouth down further, engulfing him as slowly and teasingly as I could.

I could feel him nudging at the back of my throat before I had to stop and his leaking precum was hot against the inside and I swallowed encouragingly. "John," he pulled at my hair again, trying to grab whatever he could in haste and I hummed, the vibrations making him moan and pull harder as my hand tightened around his balls, squeezing as I swallowed again. "John.. I'm gonna-" and he was cut off by a loud wordless shout and I almost choked with how suddenly an orgasm washed over him.

But I adjusted, accepting all he could give and trying to get even more, simply as much as I could and each time a breath hit his lips, he moaned or whimpered as he softened in my mouth and I pulled off. Kisses walked me back up and I was laying on him as I helped him kick off his pants, "I'm not even close to done with you," I whispered hotly in his ear as he was still coming down from the hot orgasm that he had the fortune of getting and I didn't.

I took advantage of the downtime, stripping my jeans and pants as he gawked at the fact that I was able to hide that I was already leaking. It's easy to forget your own painful pleasure when you have someone making the most delish noises because of what you're doing to them. And Sherlock makes noise every chance he gets, I swear. Doesn't matter though, because he'll be making them again soon enough, and so will I, I guess.

Oh God, what's it going to feel like being inside him? Well, I'm about to find out. I planted kisses to his neck as I moved to on top of him again, leaving saliva everywhere because I was drooling at the thought of taking him. I could feel his pulse settle, then jump back to life as my aching cock rubbed against his own, which was getting hard again. His breath was labored against my neck as I ground into him again, making him suck it all in and hold it for a moment before I repeated the action, making it come back out in a sharp cry of pleasure.

I snickered, leaving him to glare at me with those beautiful lustful eyes that were a mix of grey and blue and made me love him so much more. My fingers threaded through his soft curls, lightly massaging at his scalp as I kissed him with the most fervour I could put into a few soft kisses. His breath was hot against my own as his tongue slipped through to meet mine, as I was already halfway there. He was just too good to pass up, and tasting him was even better.

Seems he's learned a lot in a year, how to pick and prod to tease and how to push his way through and claim my mouth as his own. Which was fine by me, because I was pushing my hips to meet his and rub us against one another to make both of us moan each other's names. Interestingly enough, it was _his_ arm that snaked out from under my grip, digging in the drawer to the bedside table and twirling a bottle of lubricant that came out with his fingers wrapped around it.

I chuckled into his skin, my fingers toying with his until the bottle was in my hand and he shivered when he heard the cap pop open at my discretion. Also, I could still feel him under me, and he was definitely hard again as he had twitched at the sound of the liquid falling to my fingers. My lips claimed his again as my hips thrust into his, catching his hardened prick with my own, making us moan and me take advantage, shoving my tongue into his open mouth.

He was panting again as my fingers found their way and teased at his entrance. I could feel him tense up, then relax as I swirled the cool liquid about and slowly pushed my first digit inside. Dear mother of God he's hot, and so tight.. I couldn't help it when warmth came over me and I shivered to get used to how hot this was as I pushed in all the way. I toyed with him, swiping at his inner walls and making him groan loudly when I found a certain spot, held inside and just waiting to be touched.

More shivers sent a pulse to my cock and it throbbed in need as I tried to control the urge to just push inside with much more than a finger. But I held back, only pushing another inside as his arms wrapped loosely around my shoulders, fingers scratching at my skin, but just sliding against the sweat that built up from how much I teased him before. "John, just-" he begged but was cut off by his own sob of sensational pleasure when I scissored those fingers, brushing against the sweetest spot once more.

"Just.. shut up, Sherlock," I gasped into his kissed swollen lips and he whimpered another snivel as a third digit was added. I hope he knows this isn't just another round of poking fun, I'm also trying so hard not to hurt him. But just the way he felt wrapped around my fingers, clenching that tight muscle against my skin, made it so much harder… literally.

"John, please," he beseeched, his fingers raking at my back in want, in need. I shushed him with a long 'Sh' in his ear as I grabbed for the lube again because now my fingers were gone and there's only one other things I can replace them with. Oh please, let me have control of myself before I do something stupid and hurt him. I'd never forgive myself if I did. But just slicking myself up made me whine in pleasure, as I had been untouched until now.

I repositioned myself at his entrance and looked to his eyes as the pupils were blown wide with even more lust and he nodded, wrapping his legs around my hips and bringing me closer. I buried my face in his neck, afraid tears might spill over for some odd reason as I whispered, "I love you, Sherlock. So, so much."

I was finally in, and just the head made both of gasp as my pulse jumped out of the control I tried to have, making my heart beat a mile a minute and blood rush to my groin. The tight heat consumed me, inch by inch and I was a moaning mess by the time I was fully inside my lover. That was when I heard him say something to me, something I barely heard, but picked out as, "I love you, John. I love you, I love you," he kept repeating as he was getting used to having something so much more than three fingers.

Oddly enough, all I had to do was move and he screamed, "Oh God, John!" I whimpered in some kind of agreement as I think I found that one part of him that made him melt like jelly on toast. He was just so fucking tight and hot, sending waves of heat to wash over me and reducing both of us to puddles of sounds filling the room with pleasure and curses plus names.

Sherlock plus dick equals loud fucking noises apparently, because _every_ time I moved or thrust deeper into him, he had to moan or hum a profanity or just, _some_thing to show me he was enjoying himself. I looked back to his face full of satisfaction, and instantaneously he latched onto my mouth, his teeth picking at my lips as his tongue lapped and he sent vibrations of moans down my throat. Each time I thrust deeper, searching for-

Yup, right there. He yelped and my name followed in whispers of joy as I kissed at the tears spilling over his cheeks. But I do wonder what makes both of us tear up at this moment. Never happened before, why now? Wait, am I hurting him? Is that- "Sherlock?" I whispered into his skin.

"Yes, John," he gasped as I stopped.

"Are you alright?" I asked, still breathless as my cock pulsed inside him and he nodded, mumbling about why I stopped and that I needed to keep going. Then, if it isn't pain, what_ is_ it? I guess, I can ask later. And I started up again, slowly pulling almost all the way out, then coming back in just as slowly, dragging out a gasped groan followed by names put to both heated breaths.

"Harder, John," his thighs squeezed my sides as my eyes widened at that request.

"Sherlock-"

"Shut _up_ and fuck me _harder_!" he demanded, and I furrowed my brows in confusion as his heels dug into the back of my thighs, making me jolt and thrust as deep as I could get inside him. "Yes, like that, again, _please_," he asked and I bit down on his shoulder, growling in protest.

He then threatened to do it again if I didn't, so I obliged, but with no warning as my teeth bit down harder, making a mark for sure and probably a bruise as my hips bucked as hard as I could manage, and he screamed again, "Yes!" He hummed as I pulled out a little, pushing back in harder.

Through those harsh thrusts, I caught his prostate, dead on and kept going as he let screams, shouts, howls, anything out that had my name or cursed profanities attached out as loud as he could and they covered my shallow moans easily. Why he made sex so loud, I don't know, but I liked it, pushing harder and panting shorter breaths as another orgasm was close, I could feel it in both him and I. I pressed closer, rubbing his prick in between us as the last few thrusts were made harder, faster and names bounced off the walls as vision was blurred at the corners, peeling over the page into blissful orgasms being reached almost simultaneously.

My elbows failed to hold me anymore as I collapsed, shaking and letting out short and high pitched moans with each breath taken and simply let go. Sherlock tried to hold onto me, but failed, his arms and legs going limp as I mustered the remaining strength to pull out carefully and land beside him but still laying my head on his chest as I could hear his heart beat erratically, trying to settle.

I looked up to the taller boy, still gulping at air and trying to get himself to calm. "Why the tears, love?" I decided to ask.

He hummed in confusion, "Oh, that. Honestly, I don't know, but it didn't hurt, if you think that's what it was. It was so much better than anything I have ever done in my entire life. I think you'll like it next time," he smirked cockily and I scoffed.

"I don't need to wait until next time," my hands wandered, prancing over his abdomen and playing with his limp member.

"John, what are you-" but he was cut off by more light kisses framing and landing on his mouth, my body shifting over his own as I wondered what it would feel like to have this boy inside me.

"Just be quiet, Sherlock, you're definitely going to love this one," I promised and his eyes widened as his cock shot straight up at that thought. I laughed softly at that, letting his hand jerk at my still slicked wet prick, getting me harder once again.

I straddled him, grabbing the lube from wherever it had gotten to in the ruffled sheets and smiled, handing it to him as I could see him ponder what this would feel like. I already know, and I also already know he's going to like it. I left kisses across his chest as his fingers were coated in lubricant with no time wasted. Guess he's eager to know what it feels like. I too, am excited to know what it is that there is to love about having someone inside you. He seemed to enjoy it, almost too much, really.

But all my thoughts were cut off when his fingers were at my entrance and I gasped, blood rushing through my body, making me violently shiver at the cool of the liquid on the muscle he relaxed enough to thrust one finger in. He took after me, going slowly and trying to get a good feel for it. And I just heaved breaths, my face buried in his neck again as his lips peppered kisses across my own. "I want to warn you," as another finger was added and I twitched at the thought of having someone so beautiful inside of me, "I might not last as long as you did," he warned.

I shook my head, "I know, just do it," I commanded. He shrugged, plunging deeper as the third digit was added, brushing over that little bundle of previously untouched nerves inside, making me moan loud enough to make it sound like a muffled scream. He thrust them deeper once more before stretching me as far as he thought was needed and pulled his ling digits away, nudging his head at me.

"Are you sure?" he asked, and I nodded vigorously.

"Please," I panted and he grabbed my hips, settling me over his cock, and now I knew why he was screaming and shouting the way he was, because I groaned as he went deeper, faster than I had, but not so much that it hurt. I felt so full and I could feel him slipping at the walls inside, "Sherlock," I managed through breaths and barely being able to hear myself through my heart going insane and beating loudly in my ears, "I love you," I repeated and he replied with a choked moan.

My arms wrapped around his neck, letting his squeeze my torso, bringing me closer so he could get deeper, pushing his head into my prostate, making noises and breaths leave my throat like I never thought they ever would, (or could for that matter), before. Then he was begging for something, and I unconsciously nodded, letting him pound into me as my hips rolled to meet him with every thrust and or movement he made. Oh, he was asking for me to let him go faster.

Well, this was definitely different from when I was the one inside, and I could feel him twitching, pulsing and trying to get deeper as precum dripped, hot and wet onto that spot inside and making me jump and yelp. My teeth latched onto his shoulder, whimpering into his skin as I felt tight again, sooner than before, and I could feel him throb until the end, when he couldn't hold it anymore and came so hard it made my body shiver at each spurt.

I bit harder, almost breaking into his flesh as I made him place another thrust, forcing my body to cum once more, making my breath come out in a shaky way that made me sound desperate for air. "You were right," he gulped, "that felt amazing. Both ways, it just… mmm," he admitted and I chuckled breathlessly.

I somehow found myself pulling off of him, letting him drop out of my body before I pulled him on top of me, his head resting on my chest. "Just you wait until next time," I smirked and he nestled closer, humming his agreement.

"Well, if we ever walk again, we need a shower," he suggested and I nodded, both of us laughing lightly. He looked up to me, letting me kiss his lips in the post orgasm bliss that hopefully never has to end…

* * *

**A/N: Well, that's about it, I guess. I hope you all liked it, it wasn't as long as I would have liked the story to be, but oh well. Until next time, readers. :-)**


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